


The Knights of Sanicure

by Okamidragon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dragons, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Knights - Freeform, Medieval, Original work - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-07-26 22:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7592332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okamidragon/pseuds/Okamidragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A terrible darkness, born from the hearts of man, threatens to strip the land of Valente of its remaining light. Cyndonia, a kingdom full of vast wealth and power holds in its walls the Celestial Guardian of Darkness himself, Shacor. Marvin, a knight in the King Adair of Cyndonia's royal court, has been sent on a quest to find the remaining divine and celestial stones of Sanicure which control the the elemental guardians. Through his quest, Marvin finds that the world he thought he knew was nothing more than a world of lies and its all about to come crumbling down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Proof of Existence

**Author's Note:**

> This is a novel that I have been working on for a very long time and it has gone through a couple rewrites over the past five years. Any constructive criticism is welcome and greatly appreciated.

_Roaring in its fury, flames devoured the dying kingdom, sending up large clouds of debris and embers as buildings fell. He had won. He had beaten God. He destroyed their final hope. The guardian of darkness screamed in its anger from his perch on the watch tower of the castle, his wings spread out to their full massive length._

_The Knight of Darkness was standing in the epicenter of all of the destruction. He turned his gaze away from the mighty guardian and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, raising his head to the heavens and let out a contented sigh. He opened his eyes, tracing the glowing orange and red outlines of the smoke plumes. He then looked down at the man before him, his face covered in blood and dirt, and aged from years of war. The wounded man opened one of his eyes, the violet orb taking in his foe’s form, a frown pulling at his lips. “I knew it was going to come to this, but it still saddens me,” The man said, his voice low and sullen._

_“Where is your God now, Cameron?” The Knight of Darkness asked, staring down his victim, a vicious gleam in his eyes._

_“He is with me. He gives me courage…even though…I can see death standing in front of me,” Cameron replied, his voice beginning to waver as the pain set in. He started to shake, blood was soaking through his clothing and matting his black hair._

_“Give me my prize and I may consider sparing your life, as well as the lives of your people,” the knight said, turning his head and looking up to the Guardian of Darkness. Its blood red eyes glowed through the smoke, and its mouth was pulled in a wicked grin._

_“I am the Living Water,” the man whispered._

_“What?” the knight asked, he turned his attention back to the man. He gave a nasty scowl, confusion becoming clear on his face._

_“I cannot die because I am filled with the Living Water,” the man repeated, his voice rising with courage. He looked up at his enemy, meeting his dark eyes._

_The Knight of Darkness laughed and the Guardian of Darkness seemed to join in, their laughter created a dreadful discord among the screams and cries of the kingdom’s people. “The Living Water? You have no hope left; Death waits anxiously to take you,” he scoffed._

_“No, though my body may die, my soul shall live and God has never left me or my people without hope. The Kingdom of Sanicure will rise again for it is sustained by the Living Water, and its current will bring us into the light!”_

Lightning flashed and the King of Cyndonia, Adair, sat straight up in his bed, his eyes wide with shock. He hated that man. He hated that dream. Once he had them in his hands then the nightmare would finally cease to haunt him. Cameron’s words would prove to be nothing but empty promises made to arouse his courage. He would fall. Just like Sanicure. He, Adair, would be the ‘Living Water’ and he would sustain his own kingdom through his own will and his own power. He would be held as a god.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

            “Marvin!” the angry scream reverberated throughout the castle; the King of Cyndonia was mad, fuming mad, seven years he had been searching, seven years he had been coming up empty.

            The stones…the stones had become his obsession, but none of the Knights of the Dragons Keep understood their importance, yet they were his most trusted warriors, the king’s own guard.

            “Yes, your majesty?” came the calm voice of the head knight as he entered the throne room, his footsteps echoing across the empty halls. His helmet was secured in his right hand, silver armor glinting in the bright golden sunlight shining through the windows, and his black hair was disheveled. He knelt in front of the King in respect as he spoke, head bowed, eyes closed.

            “For seven years your team has been searching for the stones yet every time you return empty handed! What is with the delay?” the king fumed, glaring at his head knight with disdain. He rose from his throne, straightening out his black surcoat as he began to pace back and forth, his footsteps reflecting off of the cold grey stone walls. His red satin cape flapped behind him as he took each stride.

            “Sire,” Marvin began, raising his head and opening his eyes, revealing the brilliant green orbs. “Maybe you are mistaken about the stones. Perhaps they do not exist. Sanicure fell nearly twenty years’ time and all the inhabitants have been extinguished. Surely the stones would have been in the rubble, but as evidence from our last several excavations of the land, they only seem to exist in myth.”

            Adair froze, his brown eyes narrowed at the man. He took two paces towards Marvin and stopped, fist clenched, shaking with rage. “You should know better than to question me Marvin,” he said lowly, his voice menacing and cold.

            The knight felt a chill run up his spine as he noticed a sudden change in the king’s eyes as they twinkled, a sickly sweet smile came on his lips. “But if you want proof, then I will be more than happy to oblige.”

            “Fetch me the prisoner we caught last week who tried to steal bread from the market,” the king growled, turning back to his golden throne. It was crafted by the greatest carpenters and precious metals smiths in the land of Valente: silver dragons molded into the base. Unfurled wings supported the weight of the cushioned seat. Jewels were casted in the armrests and the head was shaped to resemble dragon wings, each tip almost caressing the walls. His majesty sat down on the throne and folded his hands on his lap. Dark eyes searched his faithful subject for any evidence of refusal.

            “Yes, my Lord,” Marvin said obediently as he rose from his kneeling position, walking with purpose through the great oak doors. He made his way through the narrow corridor, dimly lit by torches. Shadows danced across the cool stone walls as a chilled breeze filtered through the castle, causing the flames to flicker and an uneasy knot in the knight’s stomach.

            Halfway down the hallway leaning against the wall, the youngest of the Knights of the Dragons Keep, watched his former mentor approach him, and he immediately straightened, blue eyes shimmering with excitement.

            “Evening, Marvin,” the young knight greeted heartily, blond hair combed back. His silver armor had a reddish tint from the reflection of the torches in its polished steel. The flickering shadows outlined the golden dragon that was proudly carved into the chest plate, the Cyndonina symbol for absolute power.

            “Evening, Ethan,” Marvin greeted absently, not pausing in his brisk pace.

            “What work does the King have for us today?” Ethan asked eagerly as he pushed off the wall to match his elder’s pace.

            “Right now, he wants to see the prisoner we caught last week,” Marvin replied, his lips pinched in a worried line. “As to what for, I do not know,” he sighed; he could feel his stomach start to sink. _The stones, could they be real?_

            “Shall I fetch him?” Ethan asked, shaking Marvin from his thoughts.

            “Yes,” Marvin nodded, “but return here and allow me to deliver him to the throne room. I don’t want you facing the King’s wrath; it seems he has been anxious lately.”

            “What for? The Kingdom is at peace, we rule almost all of the land of Valente…, there is nothing to fear,” Ethan laughed.

            “The stones, the stones,” Marvin sighed, shaking his head.

            “The stones?”

            “Yes, the Celestial and Divine Stones of Sanicure, you’ve heard of them correct?” Marvin asked, looking at his younger.

            Ethan nodded and tilted his head, giving his leader a quizzical look. “Yes, I remember hearing about them when I was younger, but they are but a myth correct? Everyone awed and feared them…but they were merely stories spun on by folktellers.”

            “So we believe, yet it would seem our Majesty does not. For seven years he has made the Dragons Keep’s sole mission to stake out the ruins of Sanicure and scavenge for these legendary stones. But no one has ever seen any evidence of their existence.”

            Ethan scoffed, “perhaps he has gone mad.”

            “No,” Marvin shook his head, “I think he knows something we do not.”

            “Well if he does, he will not keep it from us long. I’ll go fetch the prisoner,” Ethan said giving a slight bow. He then quickly set off towards the dungeon.

            Marvin watched him go letting out a soft sigh, “it is that revelation that I fear the most.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

            Marvin didn’t have to wait long for Ethan’s return. He brought with him the prisoner in chains; following behind them was his good friend Marcus, another warrior in the Knights of the Dragon’s Keep.

            “Evening, Marvin,” Marcus said giving a slight nod in greeting.

            “Evening, Marcus,” Marvin responded.

            Marcus was slightly taller than Ethan; he had a head full of dark brown hair and light maple colored eyes. Marcus took great pride in his moustache and beard, which he claimed he had been growing out since he was a boy, believing it to be proof of his manhood. He kept it well-groomed and trimmed, as he kept a comb latched into his belt at all times.

            “Please, I was hungry. I didn’t want to steal the bread. Honest. But I didn’t know what else to do,” the prisoner begged, shaking. He was a pitiful sight, standing in rags that were flaked with dried blood.

            “Shut up,” Marcus snapped. The man whimpered like a dog being scolded by his master and drew back as much as the chain would allow him, his eyes running over the knight. Marcus’s silver armor was tinted orange as it reflected the dancing flames and the shadows that outlined the Kingdom’s seal; a dragon guarding the crown, which was casted in gold in the chest plate.

            “Come on, we don’t want to keep the king waiting,” Marvin sighed. He pitied the man, but wasn’t about to defend his thievery.

            They walked back towards the throne room; the prisoner was making quick prayers, eyes darting from side to side. His hands, bound by shackles, were clasped together and shaking like a leaf, causing the chains to rattle. The prisoner let out a soft whimper as they reached the oak doors decorated with a black dragon pattern. Marcus nudged the man with his foot to silence him.

            Marvin opened the door and took the chains, leading the man into the throne room. The setting sun cast long shadows that were accompanied by dulled shades of red and orange, giving the place an eerie feeling. Marcus and Ethan entered and took their positions on either side of the door and drew their swords to discourage any thoughts of escape.

            “You’re Majesty, the prisoner,” Marvin announced, bowing to his king, keeping a tight hold on the chains.

            “Thank you, Marvin,” the king said. His voice held a sinister tone to it. He rose slowly from his throne and stepped down the three step platform and walked towards them; the light hitting the sides of his face gave him a ghoulish appearance.

            “King, my king, please have mercy on me,” the man begged, dropping to his knees. Fear and desperation seemed to age the man. His body weak and frail, quaked in the presence of his king.  

            “Now, don’t fear, my poor man,” Adair whispered as he came closer. He knelt in front of the prisoner and stared him dead in the eyes. A devilish smile came over his face, eyes dark and dangerous.

            “You mean you will let me go?” the man asked quietly, looking away from the king to avoid his deathly gaze.

            “No, my dear sir, think of it as an honor. You will be my sacrifice to keep the darkness alive,” the king breathed, taking his hand and placing it on a black dragon shaped stone worn around his neck. The air grew cold and the shadows seemed to rise and surround them, as if it had a mind of its own. 

            “Sacrifice for stealing bread?” the man shrieked, his voice tapering with terror. The king rose and started to pace around the room, his footsteps rang off the walls, mimicking the sound of war drums. _Bum bum, bum bum, bum bum._

“My dear man, you do not understand; this stone around my neck is one of the two Celestial Stones of Sanicure.”

            “The legendary Kingdom of Sanicure has fallen, my Lord.”

            “Yes, but the guardians that protected it are still alive and they live within these stones. You will be my sacrifice to the Guardian of Darkness and will show Marvin, my most trusted knight, why I must obtain these last remaining stones of Sanicure that the Lord created to protect the Land of Valente so long ago,” Adair boomed, his voice echoing across the walls. Everything fell quiet.

            “Sir, I am not worthy,” the prisoner piped up.

            “Don’t try to weasel yourself out of Darkness’s hands. He will be honored to have a sinful soul to feast upon, for you see, his ultimate master craves the villainy your heart has committed.”

            “But we strive for peace and honor, sire,” the man’s voice was now below a whisper, his fear choking him.

            “We do, but in order to have peace, we must be rid of the lowbrow trash that dares disturb it. Now behold your executioner.” The stone in the king’s hand started to glow as a black aurora surrounded him. “Arise,” the king commanded, raising his hands into the air, “Shacor, Guardian of Darkness, awake from your slumber. Unfold your mighty wings and accept the sacrifice I present to thee.” The black aura shot towards the shadows on the walls bringing them beside the King. A form started to manifest; demon red eyes glowed from the shadows. A deafening roar erupted into the room, shaking the walls and striking fear in the knights and the prisoner.

            The darkness encircled the man. He started to scream, blood curdling screams. He begged. He prayed. But alas, it was too late, for the darkness had him in its deadly grasp. The prisoner’s screams began to turn into a terrible shrieking as his skin began to rip away from his body, blood pouring out onto the ground. Though the shadows claimed that too, lapping it up off the ground with a long tongue that left behind embers. A final watery gurgle and gasp for air ended death’s song as the shadows finally shot inwards, swallowing the prisoner whole, and leaving behind no trace of the man.


	2. The Bow is Drawn

   The room fell into a deadly silence as the darkness retreated back into the stone. Marvin could feel his heart pounding against his chest, threatening to tear itself away from his body. His senses, fueled with adrenaline, picked up the clinking sounds of armor as his comrades quaked behind him, their quick short breaths, and the reeking odor of perspiration. 

  
    A bead of sweat dripped from Marvin’s brow. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm his frayed nerves and slow the rapid beating of his heart. His knees began to buckle as his body was overtaken by terror. He awkwardly shifted, moving one foot forward to help maintain balance.

  
    The creature…it had been so close. He could feel another wave of panic rise over him as he became increasingly aware of how loud the silence was. It was deafening…almost as overwhelming as the prisoner’s dying screams or the petrifying roar of the demon that claimed the poor man’s soul. The unsettling silence began to take a form of its own and chased away the rational thoughts within Marvin’s mind, scattering them to the darkest voids. The color in his face began to drain, leaving behind the pallid yellowish-tint of a dead man.

  
     Behind Marvin, Ethan dropped to his knees. Dilated eyes shifted from the king to the shadows on the walls, and back to the king. Sweat covered his brow and his hands, and salty tears leaked from his eyes. He couldn’t control himself. His entire body had turned against him. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come. He grabbed around his stomach as it began to lurch and flip; everything felt like it was trying to flee.

  
   Marcus seemed paralyzed; his expression was frozen in terror. His mouth open, eyes wide, skin ghostly pale; for Marcus’s body, time seemed to have come to a standstill.

  
   A chuckle broke the powerful silence and was accompanied by the soft beating of Adair’s footsteps against the stone floor. “Do not fear, my faithful subjects,” he said softly, stopping in front of his head knight, “The Guardian of Darkness will not strike unless I command him to.” His dark eyes bore into Marvin but the head knight couldn’t meet his gaze. Fear glued his eyes to the floor. 

  
   “That….” Marcus squeaked. He stopped and swallowed the lump that had hardened in his throat and then continued, “That was one of them….that awful creature.”

  
    Adair glanced at him, and then turned his attention to the walls, where the shadows were strongest, “Yes. Shacor is one of the two Celestial Guardians.” A wicked grin spread across his face, “You all should feel honored. It has been a while since anyone has seen the Guardian up close without being his victim.”

  
   “Honored?” Ethan choked, his voice barely reaching above a whisper.

  
   Adair didn’t hear him. The king of Cyndonia shifted his gaze over all three of the knights, taking in their fear; his eyes gleamed in some sort of sick delight. Another low laugh shook his form as he began to pace. He kept his hands behind his back and seemed to be contemplating what to say next. The silence began to start up its discord and made Marvin uneasy, there needs to be an end to this silence. He finally forced himself to look up and look at his king, “Why….” He croaked.

  
   Adair halted and looked at Marvin, their eyes met for a brief moment before the head knight tore his gaze away. “Why, what?” He questioned, his voice coming out calm and low.

  
   Marvin fumbled for words; his thoughts were still shooting by, too fast for him to grasp. The prisoner’s screams echoed in his head chasing away any chance for a rational thought. The head knight painfully swallowed, trying to gain composure, but nothing seemed to work. Fear had him firmly in its grasp.

  
  The king of Cyndonia strode over to Marvin and placed his hand on the knight’s shoulder, “Marvin, that man was not worth the air he breathes. The Guardian of Darkness is using his soul for a much better purpose.”

  
  _What purpose? Aren’t all lives valuable?_ Marvin’s eyes narrowed and his body that had once been frozen with fear was now starting to feel the burning sensation of anger. He dropped the chains that were still in his hand, and they made a small clanking sound as they hit the ground. His palms stung from where the chains had left red imprints in the palms.

  
   A sigh came from Adair, “I know it will be hard to convince you. You have always been soft.” The king of Cyndonia shook his head and then looked past him to the other two knights. “Come forth,” he said simply, taking a step back and opening his arms.   
Marcus clumsily stumbled forward and knelt, his eyes focusing on the stone floor. His comrade on the other hand, didn’t move. Ethan could not physically tell his body to stand, instead he could only look on with trepidation. He moved his arms and crossed them over his midsection and allowed himself to crumple over, trying to make himself smaller, less noticeable. Adair sighed, “Perhaps one day you will be able to have courage when you are in the presence of our humble guardian.”

  
    Marvin looked back to Ethan, _I don’t blame him…._

  
    “The people of this realm have forgotten in such a short time what true terror is. What the guardians were like….they dismissed what they witnessed as a myth because it was easier to accept the myth then accept reality. The guardians are real. They still live. And your job is to find the last five stones and bring them to me…” Marvin looked at him again, their eyes met, but this time, he didn’t break his gaze. “The Knights of the Dragons Keep was formed in order to find these stones and to ensure that this kingdom remained safe… these stones are the only thing that can protect it and the only thing that ensure its demise.”

  
     “If the stones can ensure Cyndonia’s demise, then wouldn’t it be better if they remained in myth, never to be found?” Marcus asked timidly. He could feel himself shrinking as Adair turned his harsh gaze on him.

  
     “If our enemies found the stones first and were to wield them against us, Cyndonia will not stand a chance. The stones are separated into two tiers. Divine and Celestial. The Divine stones control the four major elements of the world; water, wind, earth, and fire. With these four elements under our enemies’ grasp, they could ensure that the resources we have could either be no more or turn against us. The final Celestial Stone is the stone of Light, which, holds equal power to Shacor. Even the Celestial Stone of Light by itself could prove to be a danger to Cyndonia,” the king sighed as Marcus looked at him with terror and concern. “I do not know why I bother telling you the inner workings of these stones. The chances of a mere peasant finding and wielding the stone for his will is slim. It is unlikely that you ever have to encounter one of the other guardians in battle.”

  
    Adair removed his necklace and held the Celestial Stone of Darkness in his hand, “the guardians are a powerful ally and an even more powerful opponent. Do not fail this quest, or it may spell ruin for this kingdom,” he looked directly at Marvin.

  
   “Yes, my lord,” Marvin answered, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, as he knelt.

  
    The king unsheathed his sword and hovered it over Marvin’s shoulder, “Go forth and may the Lord be with you.” He drew back his sword and sheathed it, turning back to his throne and signaling them to leave.

  
    Marvin rose and went over to Ethan, “Come,” he said gently, his eyes softening.   
Ethan looked up at him, his eyes were dull, as if his very soul had fled with his courage. Marvin placed his hand on Ethan’s shoulder and knelt down to get to his level. “Rise my friend, and take courage,” Marvin’s voice was so quiet that it sounded more like a whisper in the wind. The blonde knight began to shift and moved his legs out from under him. In a less then graceful way, he rose to his feet, his legs nearly giving out once he had straightened himself. Marvin, supporting his comrade, helped Ethan to regain balance.

  
    Marcus came up behind him and placed his hand on his friend’s back, there were no audible exchange of words, but the message was clear to all three of them. No matter what happened in the days to come, they would face it together. Ethan, Marcus, and Marvin left the throne room and walked out into the dimly lit hallway of their unfolding destiny. 

* * *

   The tiring sun was almost hidden beneath the horizon, casting its red lazy rays over the earth. The training grounds were quiet and still, save for a lone warrior who stood with a bow in hand. His dark brown eyes were locked on his target, a quintain that had seen better days. Its body, that was made out of a sandbag, had been torn and the sand had escaped into a large pile at its base. The poor thing sagged. Still the knight chose this particular dummy for his assault. He removed an arrow from the quiver on his back and strung it on the bow, pulling back the string. He held this position, taking a deep breath in. His muscles were tense and strong, his eyes narrowed, visualizing where he wanted the arrow to go. He was still for a few seconds like a statue, nothing moved except for a soft breeze that brushed the grass beneath his feet, letting out a hollow whistle. He breathed out slowly, and with a sudden release of tension, the arrow soared towards its target. It struck the dummy with a hard thud. More sand began to leak from the new hole in the dummy’s side. 

   “Nice shot,” a voice broke through the quiet veil.

  
   “Marvin,” the dark warrior said turning to face him. The head knight’s armor was tinted a gentle orange and red, highlighting the accents in the lion symbol on his breath plate.

  
   “That would have been a fatal blow had it been on a real man,” Marvin continued, admiring the preciseness of the attack. He walked past Vukašin and stopped beside the dummy, placing his hand on the rough fabric of the sand bag and pulling on the shaft of the arrow, dislodging it from the dummy. Where the arrow had pierced the left side, a steady flow of sand came pouring out, causing the already wounded quintain to sag more.

  
   “What is it Marvin? You and I both know you didn’t come to shoot the breeze,” the knight responded gruffly. He put the bow over his shoulder and walked over to a wooden bench that was set beside a small rose bush.

  
   “The king has an assignment for us,” Marvin answered. He watched the stream of sand and placed his hand under the flow and allowed it to pass in between his fingers. The knight was quiet and he raised his cold eyes to meet his commanding officer’s. “We are meeting at the Fountain of Cornerstone tomorrow morning, be ready to leave by sunrise,” he continued and took his hand away from the sand and brushed it off his hands on his pants. He looked over at Vukašin, his ebony skin contrasted with the white tunic he wore. He had on dark brown riding pants to match and his black boots were scuffed with age and use. The bow in his hand and the arrows in his quiver were all crafted by the knight himself for he didn’t trust others to make his weapons.

  
   “What is the assignment?” the knight questioned, as he removed the quiver from his back and placed it on top of the bench.

  
    “We are going back to the remains of the Sanicurian kingdom and scouring every bit of earth until we find the last remaining stones,” Marvin answered as he walked back towards Vukašin.

  
   Vukašin and gave an exasperated sigh but nodded. Marvin handed him the arrow. “Vukašin,” the warrior looked up at Marvin, their eyes meeting. “I appointed you second in command and this journey is going to be long and trying, I need to see that you can handle the stress of leadership.” He gave him a hard stare.

  “You will not be disappointed,” the knight answered watching as his leader gave him a nod and turned to leave. 

    Once Marvin was out of sight, the knight turned his attention back towards the dummy, its ragged features were almost covered in darkness as the sun was nearly hidden behind the blanket of the earth. The air was chilled and a brisk breeze blew past, whistling a sad tune over the land. He looked down at the arrow, a wolf was carved into the wooden shaft; it was his family’s symbol, one that he had haunted him for years. It had taken those long daunting years to build up the respect he needed in the Kingdom of Cyndonia to rise through the ranks to become a knight, and now, that hard work was going to be put to the test. If he failed, then, he might as well accept the fate that the citizens of this kingdom had already made for him. “I Vukašin, the lone wolf knight of the tribe Rishka, swear upon this arrow, that I will not fail this task that has been set before me.” He turned sharply and stuck the arrow into the bench, and left it there, in the rising darkness.   
………………………………………………………………………………………………………

   “Someone….Deliver us from this evil!!”

    “Look, we are done for! Even the Guardians have given up! They turn their heads away from our suffering.”  
   

     “Why didn’t we listen? He warned us this would happen but we were captured by the wickedness and greed in our hearts.”

  
     Flames roared in their rage, engulfing anything and everything in its way. People were scattering and in the midst of the heavy smoke, red eyes gleamed. A child started screaming, tears streaming down his red face. The flames were inching closer, their hands reaching out to grab the terrified child. The boy didn’t move, his eyes were wide, red, and puffy. He clung onto the lifeless corpse of his mother.

  
    “Kill them all!” A strong demonic voice commanded. A terrible shriek filled the air and overtook the symphony of destruction around the boy. The red eyes suddenly shot forward, the smoke clinging to the large body, shielding it from the eyes of the people. It opened its large jaws and came down upon the screaming child.

  
    “Stop!” Marvin shrieked, quickly sitting up. Sweat covered his brow; his breathing was rapid and panicked. I must be going crazy. He ran a quivering hand through his hair and took deep breaths. He looked around his small room, the shadows seemed to have eyes, watching him closely with bloodlust. He reached over to the wooden chest beside his bed and pulled out a match and lit it, then brought it up to the candle, watching as the flamed jumped over to the wick. 

  
   The shadows seemed to retreat as the flame brought light into the room. Marvin’s eyes rested on the sword that was leaning against a small wooden table on the other side of the room. He rose from his bed and walked over to table, picking up the sword. The steel sword glowed orange under the candle light as Marvin removed it from its sheath. The silver moonlight that poured in through a small window made the engravings on the blade visible, ‘what you seek you already have and what you have you seek.’

  
    Father, I wish you were still here. Marvin said softly, giving the blade a fluid swing through the air, causing the moonlight and candle light to reflect off of the blade, chasing the shadows farther away from the sword’s master. He watched as the shadows began to creep back as he placed the sword back into its sheath and setting it on the table.

  
   Slowly he made his way back to his bed, laying down on the stiff mattress made of hay. He closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep, the child’s screams still haunting his dreams. 

* * *

  
    Golden rays peaked over the horizon and slowly began to paint the dark sky with light touches of orange and blue. A gentle breeze passed through the sleeping kingdom and ruffled the black hair of the lone soul walking through the still slumbering streets.

    Marvin stopped and admired the brilliant colors as the sun continued to paint its canvas, blending the colors across the sky, making its own unique masterpiece of the day.

  
    He took a deep breath, tasting the cool crisp air that lingered from the night before, as he continued to make his way through the empty streets. His footsteps created a gentle tapping rhythm as his black boots hit the cobblestone streets. The wind whistled a soft melody over the steady beat welcoming the rising sun. Grand buildings made of stone and lumber, with gold finishes in the wood work and around the stone, decorated the Kingdom’s streets and showed off its vast wealth. These buildings; brothels, artisan shops, guild houses, local markets, the blacksmith shop, taverns, and citizen’s houses, were all made out of a white stone with silver or gold touches to them. The white walls and beautifully crafted wooden doors, with carvings in them, to reveal their destination, showed little aging. This magnificent assortment of buildings wrapped around the entire Kingdom, like a coiled snake and made a wall around the castle, protecting its most valuable asset, the king. All of this was guarded by the large stone walls that wrapped around the Kingdom’s exterior, heavily guarded by guardsmen and knights.

  
    He turned a corner and headed towards Cyndonia’s southern gates. His destination was right outside the kingdom’s gates hidden deep into the woods that was just past the farmlands. The farmlands and forests that outlined the southern border served as a vital resource for the Kingdom, providing food and lumber for the growing kingdom. Though it wasn’t only farmers who lived outside of the walls but a brave guild of knights, known as the Watchmen, who came as the first line of defense for Cyndonia against the nomandic tribes who were still trying to reclaim their lands after the war.   
Cyndonia’s signature dragon sigil became clear from the large golden statues that sat on either side of the watchtower of the southern gates, their wings were folded and their tails wrapped around the watch towers, creating a set of stairs that went down from the watch tower to the walkways built on top of the walls. A knight patrolling the wall immediately stopped as he saw Marvin approach.

  
    He ran towards the large wheels which controlled pulleys that opened and lowered the large gates. He placed one hand on the wheel and watched as Marvin came closer. Once he was sure the lone knight was in hearing distance he called down, “Ser Marvin the Brave, what brings you out so early in the morning?”

  
    “I am just going to visit an old friend,” Marvin answered, “Adair is sending the Knights of the Dragons Keep out on an assignment and I didn’t have another chance to bid him farewell.”

  
     The knight nodded, “Be careful, a messenger from the Watchmen reported tribesman not too far from the walls.”

  
    Marvin watched as the large gates, with great whining, began to draw back, revealing the vast fields beyond. With a nod to the guardsman, he made his way through the gates and out into the outskirts of the kingdom.

  
    The green fields were speckled with yellow, as the grass was beginning to die from repeated days of the harsh summer heat. As the days and weeks of summer passed there was no sign of relief from rain. The heat would only get worse as the summer continued to mature and if the skies continued to hold back its tears, then the ground wouldn’t be able to quench its thirst and more than the grass would suffer. Marvin sighed as he looked back up at the brightening sky, still no sign of clouds. No rain would come today.

  
   A whinny from a couple of horses caught the knight’s attention and turned it towards the fields. Horses and cattle were grazing in the large pastures and only raised their heads long enough to glance at Marvin before returning to their attention to the dying grass.

  
   Marvin crossed a wooden bridge that ran over a shrinking stream and continued onto a dirt path that had been created from years of use. The dirt road followed the stream towards the woodlands and would continue to the trading town of Tysel. The grass continued to retreat further and further towards the tree line as the traffic in the area had steadily increased over the years.

  
   As Marvin came into the shade, provided by the trees, he could hear the hearty tunes of birds as they chased each other above the treetops, often diving and winding around the branches before soaring back into the sky. The air held the scent of weeds and vines growing on the trees, the distinctive scent of pine, and the leaves that were covered in a thick coat of humid dew. The sun was beginning to set its warm gaze upon the land awakening the sleepy creatures of the forest and foretelling another hot day.

  
   The house that came into view was nothing to brag about, it was small and humble, made out of stone and hay for a roof. A creek wound its way around the house and to the left of it a large red pine stood, casting its long shadow over the humble abode. To the right of the little cottage was a fenced in field with a single shelter where an old gray gelding was housed. The horse was grazing in the field and lazily glanced towards Marvin before returning to the luscious green grass that was maintained by the gelding’s owner.

  
   The strong knight stopped outside of the wooden door and gave it a few quick knocks before taking a step back. His eyes traced over the wave pattern carved into the door, a light smile coming over his lips and his eyes sparkling as a happy memory flashed before his eyes. He had many adventures in this very house, chasing cats and terrorizing the poor squirrels during his boyhood. The squirrels were never much of a challenge once he learned how to catch them but the cats would fight back, leaving nasty scratches on his face and arms. Marvin chuckled as he glanced down at his arms, a couple of faded scars remained from those days.

  
   The door slowly creaked open and a man well in his years glanced out from the crack. His wise grey eyes fell on Marvin and widened. A broad smile came over his wrinkled features. “Marvin my boy…it has been a while, please come in,” he said excitedly opening the door wider and stepping out of the way to allow the knight passage. “You rarely ever come around anymore,” he complained looking over Marvin’s muscular frame. “Have you gotten taller?” he jested.

  
   Marvin rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No, I was this height two weeks ago when I last saw you.”

  
   The old man waved his hand and gave a huff, “that was only in passing. You should come by and see your elder more often…no one likes to be forgotten.”

  
   Marvin laughed, “I could never forget you Stefan. King Adair has been keeping me so busy as of late, it has been almost impossible to get away.” He glanced over the interior. A straw bed was on the far wall with a small wooden table sitting next to it. A large bookshelf took the wall to the right, where different parchments and documents were neatly placed and categorized. “How have you been my friend?”

  
  “Good, good,” Stefan answered as he turned to the woodstove that was to the left of him, “do you want some tea, my boy?”

  
   “No, I can’t stay long,” Marvin answered, “I just came to say goodbye.”

    He turned to look at the young knight, “goodbye? Where are you going?”  
Marvin sighed, “Adair is sending the Knights of the Dragons Keep back to fallen Kingdom of Sanicure.”

  
    Stefan gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes, “for the stones I presume.”

  
    Marvin nodded and made his way over to the bookshelf, running his hand over the spine of a book. “yes, it seems as if he is becoming consumed by them.”

  
    The old man shook his head as he ran his hand over a small kettle, a small stream of water slipped through the windows and rushed over to the kettle and filled it. “I was afraid of this,” he whispered to himself as he put it on the stove.

  
    “Sorry,” Marvin asked as he didn’t quite hear the mage.

  
     Stefan looked up at Marvin, “oh, I said I am sorry that I forgot to bring in wood for the stove.”

  
    The knight laughed, “what a tragedy. Hold tight, I will fetch you some wood.”  
The mage watched as Marvin walked out of the house. He then walked over to the bookshelf that Marvin had been standing at and pulled out the book he had been touching. He opened it and ran a hand over the torn pages that made a small box. Inside of it was an amethyst stone in the shape of a lion. It gave off a faint glow. He picked it up and wrapped his wrinkled fingers around it, “he will never give up will he, Cameron?”

  
     He slipped the stone into a small grey pouch that he had tied to his belt as Marvin came in. “You can place the wood in the stove Marvin,” Stefan said as he shut the book.   
Marvin nodded as he carried the logs of fire wood to the stove and knelt down, opening the metal door and putting the small logs into the stove. “I can light it for you, if you would like.”

    “That isn’t necessary,” Stefan said as he placed the book back on the shelf and turned to face Marvin. “I appreciate the help you have already given me.”

  
     Marvin smiled and then looked back to the book shelf, “you keep a record of all of your travels on that shelf, right?”  
   

    “Yes, memories last longer when they are written down,” the mage looked over his parchments. “The mind allows old memories to fade overtime but write them on parchment and they have the ability to become immortal.”

  
    “And you also traveled to Sanicure,” Marvin pressed, his eyes resting on the mage.  
Stefan watched him curiously, “yes, my boy, but that was a long time ago.”  
Marvin grabbed the flint stone and the steel rod that Stefan had by the wood stove and struck them hard together causing a spark. “And you researched the stones?”

  
    “A little,” Stefan said quietly, he began to wring his hands together.

  
    “I have seen your parchments and books Stefan,” Marvin said, “I know you correct some of the misconceptions that are written in the tales of old.”

  
    “It’s a shame when a historian does not do their research,” Stefan commented as he walked over to Marvin. “As a scholar in the workings of magic and miracles, the Celestial and Divine Stones of Sanicure are a very huge interest of mine.”

  
    “You know a lot about them, then,” Marvin struck the flint stone again but this time inside the stove and watched as the spark hit the wood and began to feed.

  
     “I would say I am a novice expert,” the old man gave a twinkling grin as he eyed the fire.

  
     Marvin smiled, “always the modest one.” He rose from his kneeling position and wiped the dust off his pants, then smiled. “Do you miss your days of travel?”  
The old mage tilted his head to the side, “hmm, miss it? That is a hard question my boy, though my mind may hunger for the knowledge that lies beyond this kingdom, my body just is not what it used to be.”

  
    Marvin looked up at him and sighed. “I guess there is no point in asking then.” The knight turned to the door and slowly began to walk towards it, allowing the words to sink in.

  
    He had piqued the mage’s curiosity; he could tell by the shuffling sounds behind him. “Ask me what, young one?”

   Marvin halted, his focus on the door, “the journey may be long and your body may be old, but I believe you would be a valuable asset to my team.” He turned to face the mage, meeting his kind grey eyes, “Stefan, with your knowledge of Sanicure, the Knights of the Dragon’s Keep may finally be able to complete its mission in finding the remaining stones.”

  
   Stefan’s expression became unreadable, there was mixture of emotions contorting the old wrinkled face. “I don’t know Marvin.” He looked away from the knight and focuses his attention on the kettle as faint wisps of steam began to rise up and curl in the air above it.

  
  “The choice is yours,” Marvin said calmly. If I know Stefan though…he can’t refuse. “If you do decide to accompany the Knights of the Dragons Keep on our journey, meet me outside of the royal stables in two hours.” He turned to the door and opened it, “don’t forget the water inside the kettle this time. We don’t need you burning the house down.”  
Stefan shook his head, “one time…and it follows you for life.”

  
    Marvin laughed and gave a final wave before heading back to the Kingdom, leaving Stefan alone to his thoughts. The mage gave a small chuckle before turning to the stove. He lifted his hand and the water rose up out of the kettle. He then pointed towards the fire in the stove and the water rushed in to douse it. The soul of the fire, the smoke, slowly escaped from the grates in the door.

  
“It seems my tea will have to wait til I return,” he smiled and walked to his bed to retrieve the traveling bags that lay beneath it. 

* * *

  
  The sounds of horses chattering filled Marvin’s ears as he entered the royal stables. Golden rays of sunlight poured in from the opening in the ceiling drowning the floor. Large piles of hay bales were stacked to the side of the barn doors and the walls were aligned with ten stalls on either side. Some of the stalls were filled with their respective horses, the giant steeds giving Marvin a wary glance before returning to their hay. At the end of the stables was an enormous stall that housed the king’s black destrier. The large stallion turned his head to Marvin, its ears pulled back and his eyes wild with madness.

  
  Marvin took a deep breath in, the comforting smell of horses and fresh hay filled his senses reminding him of when he was a boy, hiding among the horses and eating apples in the tack room, anything to escape the endless pile of chores he had. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, that was a time ago, a time when this tale about the stones had no effect on his daily life, but now…

  
  “Good day, Ser Marvin!” A small stable boy, who was cleaning out a nearby stall, stopped his work and ran over to greet the knight.

  
  “Good day, Sheldon,” Marvin greeted, “can you fetch Excalibur for me?”

  
  “Yes, sir,” the boy answered enthusiastically, dropping the shovel and skipping towards the stall. The boy was no more than ten; bright green eyes shown with burning fire and hope that seemed so characteristic of the youth.

  
  A few minutes passed and the boy came back with the noble white steed all tacked up in a black leather bridle and saddle. “Shall I fetch his armor ser?” Sheldon asked. Marvin nodded and approached his trusty stallion. The horse’s coat shone brilliantly in the sunlight and he held his nicely defined head high. His gorgeous brown eyes looked at his companion proudly.

  
“We have a long journey ahead of us,” Marvin whispered. Excalibur threw his head up in the air giving a snort in response. A gentle smile came over Marvin’s face as he stroked the stallion’s nose.

  
“His armor,” Sheldon grunted as he struggled under the weight of the heavy steel plates. Marvin chuckled and lightened the boy’s load. “Thanks, that thing weighs a ton,” the child exaggerated plopping down on a bale of hay and laying the two steel plates he still had on his lap. His brown hair was plastered to his forehead; he reached up with his small arm and wiped his sweat covered brow. He then gave Marvin a toothy grin.   
“A ton,” Marvin laughed, “I do not think Excalibur is that strong.” He laid the armor down beside Sheldon only keeping the head plate. He carefully put the metal plate on the stallion’s head, running his hand over the carved out faces of a snarling lion. The teeth came down over the horse’s jowl and continued except for a slight gap where the horse’s eyes were.

  
“Should I help?” Sheldon asked, placing the plates he had on the ones Marvin had set beside him. He slid off of the bale of hay and went through the plates of armor and grabbed the neck plates, handing them to Marvin.\

   
Marvin took the neck plates from the stable boy, a playful smile decorating his features, “no, I can manage.” He turned to place the neck plates on, his smile growing wider, “besides, the armor weighs a ton. We wouldn’t want the king to have a new throne mat made from flattened stable boy.”

  
Sheldon started to giggle, the high pitched sounds filling up the stables. A large goofy grin painted his freckled face. “I won’t be flattened! I am going to be a warrior! Just like you.” He watched as Marvin connected the straps of the neck and head plate, making sure it was tight so they would stay in place. The plates, just like the head plate, continued the lion persona, muscles were masterly carved into the steel, and the horses mane fell over the plates, making the lion’s mane. The rest of the plates went to guard the horse’s legs from arrows, swords, and any other obstacle that might be aimed at the vulnerable locations. Marvin’s eye gave a slight twitch as he remembered the pain he had felt when the knight training him had taught him that valuable lesson as they were training how to sword fight on horseback. They had only been using wooden swords, which Marvin had come accustomed to being smacked with, the sharp stinging pain that often drove tears into boys’ eyes, had become nothing more than a bee’s sting. But falling off of a horse…now that was a different matter. The pain was like something from another world, it was dull and continuous, and the impact drove the air out of one’s lungs.

  
Marvin hadn’t seen it coming, his commanding knight acted like he was going to attack his chest but when he went to block, the knight aimed low, leaning in his saddle and allowing the wooden blade to smack the horse’s legs, which sent the stallion into a frenzy. The animal screamed and reared, throwing Marvin onto the ground with a painful thud.

  
“Your horse is another part of you,” the knight had said, “his weaknesses are your weaknesses, don’t leave them unguarded.” Marvin pulled the straps tightly and through the loop, securing them from slipping.

  
“Your armor is heavy too right?” Sheldon’s sweet voice brought Marvin out of his own thoughts.

  
Marvin gave a hum as he rose from his kneeling position, “yes, but I am used to it.” He turned and walked over to a large wooden chest that was kept secure by a large grey lock. He pulled out a key that he had tied around his belt and put it into the lock, then turned it. It clicked and he pulled the lock off and opened the chest, retrieving a folded red horse blanket.

  
He rose and returned to Sheldon and Excalibur then pulled the blanket over the stallion’s back. Marvin made sure that the blanket fitted neatly around the saddle before he pulled the stirrups through. “Sheldon,” Marvin directed his attention to the boy as he smoothed out the wrinkles in the side of the blanket, “can you tie the string through the catch in the neck plate?”

  
“Yes sir,” Sheldon said, making a serious face as he came in front of Excalibur. The horse gave him a long glance before giving an uninterested flick of his tale, turning his attention to a mare that was munching on hay in the stall next to them. The young child grabbed the string and pulled it through the catch and then tied it. He gave it a few quick tugs to make sure it was nice and tight. Sheldon admired his handy work and then looked to Marvin as the knight came over to inspect what he had done. “Pretty good, huh?”

  
“It sure is,” Marvin nodded, “you have the makings of a master rope tier.”

  
Sheldon rolled his eyes and let out a laugh. Suddenly he stopped and looked up at Marvin with a serious look. His chubby lips pressed in a line and eyebrows straight as well. “Do you think…” he paused and looked down at the floor.

  
Marvin gave him a curious glance, “Do I think…what?”

  
“That you could take me on as your squire?” The boy looked up at the head knight of the Dragon’s Keep, studying his idol’s reaction.

  
Marvin couldn’t say he was surprised by the boy’s question, yet the timing wasn’t good. Not only was the boy not old enough but the quest stood in the way, but he knew turning the boy down would leave the child heartbroken. He had been dropping hints for the past year after Marvin had finally gave King Adair the word that Ethan, his last squire, was ready to take on dubbing. He looked at Excalibur, the stallion began to paw the ground impatiently, the red blanket giving a slight shake. “You need to pass a test first,” the knight said.

  
“What kind of test?” Sheldon asked eagerly, “I will do anything.”

  
Marvin moved to his steed’s side and placed his hand on the blanket, “what is this used for?”

  
“The horse blanket? That’s an easy one!” Sheldon’s voice sounded strong and sure, the pitch rising an octave with excitement. “It is used as a shield for the horse, to stop incoming arrows. That’s why it is thick and heavy. It is also a way of identification.” He began to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet with eagerness. “On the right side you have the Kingdom’s seal, which will tell all the knights and other people you meet that you are from the noble kingdom of Cyndonia. Then on the left side, is your own personal crest which is a roaring lion, telling everyone that you are Marvin the Brave!”   
Marvin couldn’t help but smile, his hand running over the gold lion that was stitched into blanket. The lion’s back and front claws left gold streaks that made a gold trimming along the outside of the blanket, they would congregate on the right side making the Cyndonian dragon.

“That is correct,” he finally said after a moment of silence. He watched as the boy jumped up and gave an animated squeal. Marvin grabbed Excalibur’s reins and walked over to Sheldon, placing a black gloved hand on the child’s head, messing up his hair. “I will talk to your father about you becoming my squire when I get back,” he promised. He reached into a small pouch that he had on his belt and pulled out a coin, “here.”

  
Sheldon looked down at it confused, “ser?”

  
“Go get yourself a lemon cake,” Marvin explained, “a squire has to keep his strength up but often times he won’t get the luxury of eating something sweet, so, enjoy it while you can. When I get it back, it is going to be nothing but hard work.”

  
Sheldon gave a toothy grin and he saluted, “yes my lord,” he gave a bow and watched as Marvin led the stallion out into the crowded streets of Cyndonia. 

* * *

  
Against the bright backdrop of the sun was a robed figure mounted on a horse, waiting for the knight to emerge from the stables. Marvin’s face widened into a smile as he saw the figure. “I knew you would come,” he said as he stopped next to the figure.

  
Stefan’s eyes were hidden by the shadow that his hooded robe threw over his face, but Marvin could almost feel the enthusiastic grin coming from his old mentor. “Yes…well, I have to make sure you don’t get into any trouble,” Stefan answered.

  
Marvin shook his head, “of course you do.”


	3. Shifting Shadows

The sun's unforgiving rays beat down upon the Fountain of Cornerstone, creating a rainbow of colors in the spray of the fountain's waters. Four large trees surrounded the fountain, each one representing the original lords who aided King Adair and the Cyndonians in the Guardian War against Sanicure. One of the trees, was a large oak tree whose leaves were a rich dark green color. Its trunk was wide and strong from years of care. The healhty dark brown bark of the trunk and branches gave way to the soft tones of tan on the side of the tree that face the fountain. In its center was carved the profile of a ram and the word "honor" was written in the swirling horn. The ram was the sigil of the house of Crestars, from the kingdom in the northern mountains. 

It was under this tree that Ethan had taken his position, trying to find an escape from the sickening heat. "What is taking Marvin so long?" the grumpy knight grumbled. Sweat rolled down in beads on his face and soaked his clothing under his heavy steel armor. He felt like he was baking alive.

"Perhaps a pretty lass has caught his eye," Marcus answered. He was sitting on the fountain's edge, envying the cool stones that laid at the bottom, under the protection of the cool waters. Running his hand over the marble fountain, Marcus could feel the warming surface under his finger tips. He then looked back at Ethan, his eyes sparkling as he began to daydream of beautiful lasses. 

"No," Ethan responded, "Marvin is too dedicated to his work to get sidetracked like that." He scanned the busy Cyndonian streets, his attention falling on a father and his son heading out into the fields for a hard day's work. The boy was struggling with an indignant mule that was attacked to the plow. Giving a couple of curses, the child tugged hard at the lead rope, but the stubborn animal merely shook his head and pulled back, letting out curses of his own in a low braying sound. The boy's father was somewhere in a world of his own, for he kept walking, seemingly unaware of the battle going on between his son and the mule. 

"True," Marcus's voice rang out suddenly. Ethan turned his attention to the knight and watched as his friend pulled off his helmet. Brown curly bands stuck to his brow and his skin was shiny with perspiration. He set the helmet beside him and began to push it towards the water. The metal made an awful scraping sound against the marble, causing Ethan to cringe. "Also," Marcus continued, his voice coming out slow and thoughtful which greatly clashed against the sharp sound of the helmet against the marble. "Marvin has no chance with a lady."

"And why not? Marvin has a handsome face," Ethan questioned, giving a mindful kick to the soil under his feet. "At least, that is what the ladies at court say."

"Because," Marcus said, stopping his mindless venture to proudly stroke his beard, "he will need the help of one of these."

Ethan rolled his eyes and shook his head.  _He does not need the help of a dead rat on his face._ A light smile came across Ethan's handsome features as he thought of his own insult. He needed to be sure to use that against Marcus when they had their little insult tourneys. 

Soft hoof beats came from behind Ethan, breaking him out of his own trance. The knight peered around the tree and was met with the sight of the dark warrior. He was clad in steel armor that was dyed a midnight black ornamented with gold casings of wolves on the shoulder plates and rerebrace. On the chest plate in silver was the Kingdom's seal. The dragon's long tail ran around the left side of the knight, going to the back to make the symbol of a wolf with a sword in his mouth, Vukasin's personal seal. His insignia was also sown into the black horse blanket in silver. The right side held the Cyndonian symbol. The black and white stallion he was riding snorted and pawed the ground impatiently. He eyes Ethan's gold courser, which was tied to the tree he was sitting under. The gold stallions raised his ears and laid his ears flat, giving a hostile whinny before pulling on the reigns.  

"Good day," Ethan greeted his fellow knight as he placed a hand on his steed's neck to quiet him. 

"Where is Marvin?" Vukasin asked ignoring Ethan's greeting. The dark knight's eyes were hidden under his visor but Ethan could still feel the cold gaze on him. 

"We don't know," Marcus sighed and then suddenly yelled out in delight when he heard a splashing sound. His helmet was sinking into the cool depths of the fountain. "How unfortunate," he said slowly as put his arm in the cold water. Sighing contently, he allowed the water to run through the gaps in the armor on his arms before he grabbed his helmet and brought it out of the water. He was careful to keep it upside down so that the water wouldn't escape. He then dumped the contents on his head, as a child would. The laughter that came from the knight was deep and it filled the air, causing a group of common folk to stop their work and look at him. "That was enchanting," he said, sighing as he brushed his wet bangs out of his face, his maple eyes shining with boyish delight. 

Ethan shook his head in annoyance, his mouth drawing down in a frown, "Marcus, you are one of the king's knights. Show some maturity."

"Heh," Marcus chuckled and then flashed his friend a sheepish grin. He put his helmet back on his head, humming and ignoring the nasty looks that Ethan was throwing him. "I wonder how long we will be gone?"

"A while," Vukasin answered, "or at least that is what Marvin made me to believe from our conversation last night." He dismounted and tied his horse next to Ethan's before walking to join Marcus on the fountain. 

Silence fell over them. They waited patiently for their leader while listening to the comforting sounds of the fountain. A lazy breeze ruffled the leaves and carried the scent of freshly baked bread from the baker's shop down the road. 

Vukasin looked over the trees that surrounded the Fountain of Cornerstone, his mind muddling through the old stories of the great heroes who fought in the last war. It had only been twenty years ago since Sanicure fell, but many people began to talk about them as if they were only legend. His eyes went from the great oak that Ethan was standing under to the Green Ash that was next to it. In its great sand colored bark was the carving of a fox that had an arrow through one of its eyes. "The Fauxes," Vukasin said slowly, "they were said to have been knights of the highest caliber, sent out to take on the Sanicurian forces alone at the battle of Tidewater."

Marcus nodded, "I remember that story." He rose and strode over to the tree, pulling out his sword, the steel shining in the sunlight. "Led by the Lord Aaron of Fauxelorn himself, the Fauxes rode into battle on steeds said to be made from the dark depths of the earth. They rode through the terrible marshlands of Tidewater against the deadly Sanicurian forces that were thrice as strong as Lord Aaron's." Marcus crept forward, his footsteps careful and slow. 

"The leader of the Sanicurian forces was none other than Terrador, the KNight of the Earth, one of the Knights of the Redeemed. But Lord Aaron was not afraid. He said he would tear down Terrador and feed his intestines to the foxes, and send his skin back to Sanicure."

Ethan straightened himself up, his eyes wide with interest. He wrung his hands together at the sound of war and valor, how desperately he craved the chance to prove himself in battle. "They charged into battle," Marcus continued, his voice rising in volume as he skipped forward. His blade was pointed towards Vukasin, who had cautiously grabbed the hilt of his own sword. 

Vukasin's face drained of color as he scooted back, muttering under his breath, "careful, that is not a toy." Marcus didn't hear him. 

"And the two great armies clashed in a sea of blood and chaos. They say that the marshlands sucked up the fallen, and both sides had trouble with their steeds. The land was cursed." He made a dramatic falling motion, catching himself before he actually hit the ground. His eyes wandered back and forth between Vukasin and Ethan. "Soon the blood bath became so hectic that it was unclear which side was winning. But Aaron and Terrador would not call back their forces, for they were both determined to crush the other." He made his way over to the fountain and hopped onto the ledge. "They finally squared off. These two fearless commanders, though it was Aaron who took the first victory, he sliced into Terrador's horse's chest, sedning the stallion screaming to his death."

"But, Terrador wasn't going down that easily. He allowed the earth to claim his horse and with some unseen power. He commanded the earth to build a wall between him and Lord Aaron, and it _obeyed_ him." Marcus ran around the fountain, hiding behind the great stone that housed the fountain's waterfall. He peered out from the other-side and said in a low voice, "it was by hiding behind this wall that Terrador, the Divine Knight of the Earth, made his escape. It is rumored that he rode off on a wolf that was as big as a horse. That was how the fighting ended, with the Sanicurian vermin racing away with his tail between his legs. They say Lord Aaron swore to cut down Terrador before the war was over, though no one knows if it was actually him that killed the Knight of the Earth."

"Lord Aaron of Fauxelorn did not kill Terrador," Marvin's voice cut in.

Vukasin turned his attention to his lead commander as he approached, rising to meet him. "Marvin."

"It was Ser Kragen, Lord Aaron's brother, who killed Terrador," the head knight corrected. He looked over his troops. 

Marcus shrugged, "I guess I had my story wrong."

Ethan rolled his eyes and then looked to Marvin, "what happened to Lord Aaron?"

"The Guardian of the Earth ate him," an older, airy voice answered him. 

Ethan blinked confused and looked past Marvin to see the elder gentlemen. He was dressed in a long royal blue robe that had white waves sown into the hem and end of his sleeves. His face was wrinkled with age and a long white beard came down to his chest, curling at the end. He scratched his head which had a few patched of white hair.

"I apologize for the delay," Marvin began turning to face the mage with him. "But I had to fetch an old friend. My fellow comrades, may I introduce Stefan the Wise, the most powerful mage in the king's council."

"A mage?" Marcus gasped. "Wow, I don't think I have seen one in person, they are usually old cranky hermits."

Stefan gave a chuckle and a short bow to the knights. "My friend, you give me too much credit." His voice was soft and gentle. He looked at each knight in turn, studying them with grey eyes that seemed to pierce deep into one's soul. In his slender aged hands was a long wooden staff that curved at the top in a wisp design, and in the other was the reins to the old silver gelding behind him. 

"Stefan is going to accompany us on our journey. He is more knowledgeable in the Sanicurian was than I, and I feel he will be a valuable addition to our team," Marvin informed. He was met with the unsure stares of his comrades. 

Vukasin gave a sigh and looked to Marvin. "May I speak boldly?"

Marvin turned his attention to the dark knight, "yes you may."

"It doesn't matter if we have his help or not, the odds of the stones still being there is slim. Surely, if they have as much power as they are claimed to have, then we are not the only ones after them," Vukasin answered. 

Stefan shook his head, "the stones are strange artifacts and the guardians themselves will not just let themselves fall into unworthy hands." Vukasin looked at the mage with suspicion. "I will do my best to assist you," Stefan reassured as he gave another bow. His beard nearly scraped the ground before he straightened himself back up and mounted his steed. "I do believe we should be going for we are wasting precious daylight."

Marvin nodded in agreement and mounted Excalibur. The stallion gave a loud whinny grabbing the attention of Ethan's and Vukasin's steeds. 

Marcus walked past Marvin and Stefan and untied his horse from the birch tree and mounted him. The chestnut stallion shook his head and lazily looked out into the streets. 

Vukasin mounted his steed and gave one final look at the Green Ash, tracing the fox sigil with his eyes. 

Ethan walked over to his steed and placed his hand on the stallion's powerful neck. "That old man is only going to hold us back," he grumbled to the horse as he raised himself into the saddle. The stallion gave a snort in response and moved cautiously towards Vukasin's steed. Both stallions laid their ears back at the sight of each other. 

Once Marvin was sure his men were ready, he signaled them to follow and led them through the crowded streets to the West Gates. The town was alive with people as they passed through the town-square. The different merchants were calling for them to stop and look at their goods. They held them up in the air to show off the quality, hoping to grab the men's attention. The knights were forced to stop when a wine-seller, a little bold for his own good, ran in front of their horses. He held up a flagon. "A taste...just a taste my good sir, and then you will want to buy some for your journey."

Marvin handled him gently, much to Ethan's annoyance, by turning him down, and handing him a coin. Once the wine-seller realized he wasn't going to be selling any wine, he backed down. He stepped aside and allowed the knights to pass, turning to the next man walking by with a cart. 

"We should have put him in his place," Ethan urged as they passed, turning his head to give a final glare to the wine-seller. It went unnoticed. "He was out of line."

"How?," Marvin questioned. "He was doing his job. Remember Ethan, though we hold a higher title then he, we are still human. Besides, are purpose is to keep peace and protect the king and his people, not start needless fights." Marvin encouraged Excalibur into a trot and left Ethan behind a bit. A scowl decorated the blonde's face, which he hid by reaching behind him and pulling out his helmet from his saddle bags. He placed it on his head and then urged his horse into a trot. 

As they came to the West Gates, Marvin waved at the knights keeping watch on the wall's towers. They waved back before blowing a horn, signaling for the gates to open. The large heavy wooden doors enforced by steel rods, whined as they opened, revealing the yellowing fields beyond. "Good luck on your journey, the knight on the tower called down to the King's Guard. 

Marcus turned in his saddle as they passed through the gates, throwing the knights on the tower his signature grin and wave. He then kicked his horse into a gallop, racing to catch up to his comrades. 

Their horses breathing became rhythmic, syncing as one. Their thundering hooves sent a storm of dust behind the company of knights and the king's mage. 

They rode for what seemed like years. The scorching heat of the sun was baring down on them and gave the illusion that the ground was rippling, as if the sun was turning the land into water. Sweat rolled down Stefan's face; the salty substance burning his eyes. He looked over at the knights riding beside him, all adorned in their shimmering armor. It was a wonder to him how they could stand being cooked alive. 

They day became older and the sun began its descent towards its resting place, allowing the moon to come and take its watch over the night. The night's cool breath came slowly through the land, teasing the knights by disturbing the stillness of the leaves and the dying grass, but not being strong enough to provide any relief. Marvin pulled off of the road they were traveling on and into a large grassy field. The others followed him, eager to have a few moments rest. 

"We will set up camp here," Marvin announced. He halted Excalibur and turned the stallion to face his comrades. 

"Wouldn't we be safer near the road," Ethan questioned. He glanced warily at the distance between them and the road. The shadows in the grass seemed to move. 

"No," Marvin shook his head. "Though Cyndonia is powerful, she still has her enemies. No kingdom is safe from the swift crafty hands of thieves."

Stefan nodded and then looked down at the dying grass. "If we are to make a fire, we best be careful, the earth looks ready to support a blaze."

Marvin nodded and then turned to Marcus. "You will take the first watch."

Marcus smiled. "My favorite watch to take," he looked up at the night sky, a dreamy look crossing his face. "My beauty sleep will not be disturbed this way." He walked his horse over to a small tree where he placed his arm against one of the branches. He gave it a firm shake, testing its strength. "This will be a good place to tether the horses," Marcus called over to his comrades. 

"But," Ethan objected, "if we stay near the road, we can meet other knights and travelers, which would be great to listen to their stories and get the news." He gave another longing glance to the road as a couple of merchants galloped by, heading towards Cyndonia. 

"And what is these warriors are thieves or assassins? They would be dying to steal the coin from your pouch or the life from your body," Vukasin answered, "and you wouldn't be able to stop them. The field is safer; we will be able to see any strange trespassers and hear their footsteps crushing the grass." Vukasin dismounted his steed and led him over to the tree where Marcus was tying up his horse. 

Ethan rolled his eyes and dismounted. "Any man who tries to steal anything from me will feel the wrath of my blade," he growled. He led his horse, Sunraider, over to the other side of the tree, away from the others. Sunraider gave an annoyed grunt but gave no further fuss as Ethan proceeded to remove the heavy armor and blanket. He folded the blanket neatly then hid the armor away in its folds. 

Once he was done, Ethan stretched and watched as Vukasin brushed down his horse. Ethan sighed and began to slowly undo his armor, he knew there was no point in continuing the argument any further. Though it angered him, it angered him to think that Vukasin, a creature not from the good graces of God could tell him what to do. "What does the scoundrel know anyways," Ethan began once again as anger pushed him to speak. "He comes from a long line of mutts who just take up empty space and give nothing back to the world they live in. Even their flesh, when it enters the ground, makes it rotten." Ethan felt the cold eyes of Vukasin on his back. "It's only by luck and Marvin's good graces that he got this far," Ethan continued, smirking as he could mentally hear the grinding of teeth from Vukasin. 

Ethan was sure there would be a reply from the dark warrior but Vukasin merely sighed and continued to remove his own armor. 

Marcus gave a look to his hot-headed friend, "Ethan, you better watch your tongue... the last time we had a sparring match Vukasin took you down as if you were nothing more than a squire." 

Vukasin let out a small huff, as he patted his horse on the neck. Hard work is what got him to his position, not luck. The dark knight turned his attention to Marvin and Stefan who were still mounted on their steeds, talking over a map that Marvin had pulled out. "How does Marvin know Stefan?" Vukasin asked Marcus. 

Marcus shrugged. "Stefan is a mage of the King's Court, perhaps Marvin and Stefan met in passing," he suggested after some thought. 

"No," Vukasin answered crossing his arms over his chest. "They talk to each other like old friends."

Marcus smiled, "maybe they are old friends. Marvin doesn't just spend all of his free time with us you know." He pulled the saddle off of his horse and placed it on the ground. "Also," Marcus continued, "Marvin doesn't share much about his personal life, so it is possible that he has known the mage for a long time and we never knew about it."

"Still," Vukasin murmured and then pressed his lips together in a tight line. 

Marcus raised a brow, "what?"

The dark knight shook his head, "never mind." He gave his horse a final pat before pulling a canteen from his saddle bags. "I am going to go find some water," he announced as he began to walk away. 

"Okay," Marcus said slowly. He watched Vukasin go and then shrugged. He turned his attention back to removing his equipment from his horse. _Maybe one day Ethan and Vukasin will get along. But clearly today is not that day._

Vukasin continued to stray further from the group, taking in the wide expanse of the yellowing plains. His mind became increasingly troubled. _Why would this mage offer his services to help us now? If he was on the King's council, then surely he would have known about Adair's obsession with the stones? And surely Adair would have enlisted his help sooner._ His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched.  _I better keep an eye on this mage for the pieces are not fitting into place._

* * *

The haunting calls of an owl was the only response Ethan received when he asked if there was someone there. The young knight reached for his blade that was sitting beside him. "I could have sworn," he whispered as he slowly rose. He then looked back at his sleeping comrades. They were in an assortment of positions; Marcus was sprawled out on the ground, his mouth wide open allowing a long trickle of drool to slither out of the side of his mouth. His chest rose and fell with each ground shaking snore. Stefan had leaned himself up against the large branch that the knights had used as a bench during the evening time. His arms, which used to be crossed over his chest, had gone limp and fallen to cover his stomach. His hood was covering his face. Marvin was on his side on the ground, facing the opposite direction of Ethan. Then Vukasin was near the large tree where they had tethered the horses. He opted to have their company for the night. 

"They would kill me if it was a false alarm, but," Ethan returned his attention back towards the open field and the road. It was scarce of another presence save for the owl that was hidden somewhere in the trees on the other side of the road. 

"Perhaps it was just my imagination," Ethan said to himself. He looked down at his blade, "I am a sworn knight of Cyndonia, even more than that, I am a knight of the Dragon's Keep. I cannot allow my nerves to jump at the wail of an owl."

A chill breeze brushed by him and Ethan shook, "I can't believe I am saying this, but I almost miss the heat." He sat back down in the dead grass and carefully placed his blade on the ground beside him. The owl gave its call again. The trees across the road began to shake, rustling their leaves. Ethan wrapped his arms around his knees and pulled them into his chest. He let out a large sigh to steady his nerves as he trained his eyes on the road, watching in silence. Suddenly, he saw it again, in the corner of his eye, the shadows moved. 

He stayed perfectly still, waiting to see it again. Though as before, nothing else moved or made a sound. He reached once again for his blade. "I know something is out there," Ethan told himself as he rose and began to creep forward. 

His grip tightened around the hilt of his blade. The hair began to stand up on his neck as he heard the horses beginning to whicker. Ethan continued to move forward, his eyes shifting through the darkness, trying to find what was hidden in its veil. He stopped as he saw the grass to his right twitch. He quickly spun around, taking his blade in both hands, "who's there?!"

Silence. 

"I mean it," Ethan called out a bit louder, "I will run you through with my blade if you do not come out."

"Ethan?" A familiar voice called out the knight's name. 

The young knight whirled around his blade coming close to the chest of another man. "Vukasin?"

Vukasin eyed him curiously and then smirked as his younger comrade jumped back as a squirrel darted through the grass and towards a nearby tree. "It's seems your great foe is nothing but a small rodent," the dark knight commented. 

"That rodent... was stalking me," Ethan snapped and swiftly turned towards the camp site. "Is it your turn to keep watch?" he asked impatiently. 

"Yes," Vukasin answered. He watched as Ethan stomped off, grumbling to himself about the lack of sleep he had. "He will learn." Vukasin told himself as he scratched the back of his bald head. "Hopefully soon."

The dark knight began to walk back towards the camp but stopped. The wind picked up and its long fingers ran down the back of his neck, tracing his spine, leaving behind goosebumps. His eyes were locked on the campsite but it wasn't in focus, for he was paying more attention to his other senses. He could hear the low whistling of the wind as it passed over the filed accompanied by the chirping of crickets. He could smell the dying grass and the stale summer air. Then he heard the low crackling of the dead grass, as some creature passed through the shadows. 

"Darkness never sleeps," he whispered to himself and continued to listen to the sounds of the aging night. A distinct crunching of the grass, as if a heavy footed creature was walking over the dead blades, caught Vukasin's attention. It was paired with the sudden smell of rotting flesh mixed sickeningly with the sweet scent of freshly baked bread. A shadow shifted its position beside the nervous horses, causing them to give off anxious whinnies and pull against their reigns. Once of the branches snapped. Sunraider reared, striking the branch he was tethered to and causing it to crack. He was then able to pull himself free and bolted away from the campsite. 

_Perhaps Ethan's fears were not caused by a mere squirrel,_ the dark knight thought as he slowly made his way towards the campsite and the small tree. He kept his eyes focused on Sunraider. The terrified stallion reared up once again and lashed out at the darkness, as if he could see the creature that was there. He gave a terrible shriek and once again took off in the opposite direction. 

Another shadow moved to Vukasin's right. He stopped dead in his tracks. Two lucid yellow eyes were staring straight at him. Vukasin felt his blood run cold and his body begin to quake. A long snake like creature began to separate itself from the darkness. It then looked at him, opening its jaws and releasing a bright yellow smoke from its mouth. It then show forward unsheathing bright silver claws that reflected the light from the moon. 

Vukasin, startled retreated backwards and reached for his blade, but as soon as he grabbed the hilt the creature vanished from his sight. He took a deep breath and allowed his body to sink down towards the ground into a crouching position. He ran a quivering hand over his head, feeling the sticky sweat. "Was it real?" He asked himself as he wiped his hands on his pants. He watched the darkness for the creature, but he couldn't see it. He looked towards the campsite, where Ethan was just staring at him and then to his horse. The others were undisturbed in his sleep.

"Perhaps my tired mind is only playing tricks," he muttered as he rose. His eyes landed once again on Ethan and the blonde knight just stared at him. Vukasin couldn't see Ethan's eyes but he could still feel the confusion and fear coming from the young warrior. Ethan ran a hand through his hair and then ran to go calm his horse. The stallion had moved a good distance away. 

"But still," Vukasin said as he turned back towards the road. The night seemed quiet again, nothing was stirring. "The darkness never sleeps and neither do the creatures that call her day." He gave a sigh then made his way back to the campsite, listening to the angry curses of Ethan.  _As long as I can hear that loud mouth, I know he is okay._

 

 


End file.
